


By Lilac and Rosemary

by TheMarvelousMadMadamMim



Series: This Spell We Cast [7]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Anniversary, Day 14, F/F, Forgetfulness, Humor, TWW Valentines LemonFest 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 07:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim/pseuds/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim
Summary: Today is the anniversary of...something. Hecate just can't remember what, exactly.Not that she'll confess that to Ada.For TWW Valentine Lemon!Fest.Day Fourteen Prompt: Anniversary.





	By Lilac and Rosemary

**Author's Note:**

> While not all of the works in this series is connected, this one is definitely part of the Hackle Summer Trope Challenge Universe (and therefore connected to 'By Licorice and Lime' and 'By Elder and Willow'). While you don't have to have read the series to understand this story, you can read more about Hecate's star map in 'Neither Timid Nor Tame' (Chapter 3, specifically). And you can learn more about the anniversary referenced in 'The Waves and Both of Us'.  
> In the timeline of the show, this takes place in the fall of Mildred's fourth year.

It was the anniversary of _something_. That much Hecate knew.

Granted the only reason she knew was because her star map was glowing, but still. She noticed the glowing, and that had to count for something.

Despite being a rather meticulous individual, Hecate Hardbroom was not the best at remembering dates—an aptitude that Ada had proven in amazing detail, when she had given Hecate the star map, last Yuletide. At first glance, it seemed like a simple smoked-glass orb. But once you tapped it, it came alive with a small projection of the night sky, various stars twinkling with a memory. If you tapped a specific star, it would expand to a full-blown holograph of the night sky on the night of whichever memory it contained. It fit rather nicely with Hecate's own view of Ada, who held worlds of complexity beneath a simple smile.

Hecate took the pulsing orb in her hands, delicately tapping it with her finger. Holographic stars covered the room, and the orb itself now displayed a date, written in Ada’s easy looping script.

A year ago. What had happened a year ago? Hecate anxiously tapped her fingernails on the glass surface, chewing the inside of her bottom lip as her mind whirled furiously, desperately trying to answer the riddle.

 _Year ago. Fall._ She and Ada had just begun…acknowledging the possibility of something more. That much she was certain of.

She knew this. She _knew_ this date. She just couldn’t _remember_ it.

Had Ada explained this date to her before? There were so many points on the hologram, so many maps depicting the stars on the night of this memory or that. Some Hecate had instantly known—but others had required explanation from Ada. It wasn’t that Hecate didn’t remember the moments attached to each date…it was just that she didn’t always remember _exactly_ when they occurred.

For example, she could remember the first time she kissed Ada, the taste that had burst across her tongue so intensely that she actually saw white light flash beneath her own eyelids, the soft way Ada sighed and it turned her body into absolute jelly, the inexplicable way it had been both exotic and familiar. She remembered the words they spoke and the clothes they wore and the grey coolness of the early morning air. However the only way she remembered the date was because it happened to be the first day of Yule.

Her ability to recall all the physical and emotional aspects of each memory was precisely why Ada hadn’t finished explaining every point on the star map. Inevitably, they got…distracted (and despite this currently biting her in the ass, Hecate Hardbroom regretted absolutely nothing).

It was before her birthday. Which meant it had to be a date that Ada weighted with personal significance—something she’d felt, like the first time she realized that she loved Hecate, or something that seemed monumental in their timid beginnings, like the first time they'd held hands.

She squinted at the date. No, they'd surely held hands before then. But they hadn’t kissed yet…had she given Ada a flower, perhaps? Or…maybe...Hecate was at a loss for explanations.

The morning bells chimed, signaling the girls to attend breakfast. With a frustrated sigh, Hecate whisked herself into the dining hall. She took her usual seat, casting a wary gaze over the students who filtered in, most of them still half-asleep.

Dimity Drill pulled up a seat, giving a small groan as she slowly lowered herself into her chair.

Most likely spent the night with Miss Hubble and too many glasses of wine. This didn’t bode well for Hecate’s chances, but one must make do with what one is given.

“Time flies, doesn’t it?” Hecate prided herself on how easy her words sounded, how nonchalant her tone remained.

“What?” Dimity looked up, her face filled with a slow-moving confusion that confirmed Hecate’s suspicions.

“A year just…flies by,” Hecate gave a slight flourish of her hand to accentuate her point.

Dimity squinted at her, as if she'd grown a second head and professed the moon was made of cheese. “ _What_?”

“Nevermind,” Hecate realized a losing battle when she saw one.

“HB, are you…on something?”

The deputy headmistress gave a snort—as if Miss Drill had _any_ right to be asking such questions, given her current state.

“Good morning.” A much more welcome voice sounded over her shoulder. Ada’s breasts lightly brushed against Hecate’s shoulder as she maneuvered into her seat—the blonde had become a master at creating oh-so-accidental moments for their bodies to touch, so minute that most people wouldn’t even notice at all, much less think anything of it, even if they did notice.

Hecate always noticed. And she always thought rather highly of it.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” Ada smiled pleasantly, slipping her napkin into her lap.

She remembered whatever today was, that was certain. Her tone, the cheery twinkle in her eye, the airiness in every movement she made. Normally her joy would make Hecate’s mouth hurt from her own attempts to not beam like a love-struck fool. Today it only ratcheted up the anxiety pooling in her gut.

_What is it what is it hurry up Hecate you idiot figure it out._

“Quite,” she returned, hitting the  _T_  with her usual over-enunciation. However she spared a small secret smile, one that shone only from her eyes. Ada grinned in response.

Oh, bats and boils. This had all the makings of a catastrophe.

* * *

Hecate was still just as absolutely at a loss when her first free hour rolled around (oh, how she had snapped at the girls today, thank Goddess her first two classes of the morning were older girls who made less mistakes). She retreated to her potions storeroom, giving her hands things to do by sorting and re-organizing a perfectly organized system as her mind whirred through a thousand vain attempts to spark her memory. She tasted blood and suddenly realized that she’d been anxiously chewing the inside of her cheek again.

She could use remembering powder. Though there wasn’t a guaranteed success rate and there was the risk of remembering other things that she would have preferred to remain forgotten.

Still, it was a tempting solution.

Her skin prickled with a warning spell just before Ada appeared in the storeroom, wearing that same soft smile that currently only filled Hecate Hardbroom with absolute terror.

“Quite a busy morning you have planned,” Ada motioned to the rows of vials and jars, all scattered across the worn wooden work table.

Hecate hummed in agreement, nodding slightly as she returned her attention to a vial, trying to avoid Ada’s gaze so that the blonde couldn’t see the truth.

But Ada shifted closer, hand oh-so-accidentally brushing against Hecate’s hip. “Need some help?”

_Yes dear Goddess please save me I'm drowning._

“Not particularly.” By some divine miracle, she managed to keep her voice perfectly nonchalant. She immediately regretted it, softening her words with a quiet, “I wouldn’t mind some company, though.”

She felt the way Ada’s body relaxed at her amendment, and she sent herself a furious string of curses for making the blonde tense up in the first place. _It’s not her fault you have a mind like a sieve, Hecate Hardbroom._

“Tincture of arrowroot,” Ada read the jar in Hecate’s hands, her voice low as she leaned in closer. Of course, her movement brought the upper half of her body up against Hecate’s arm, which immediately burned like fire under the simple contact. “File under _T_ or _A_?”

“Um—ah, _A_ , I should think,” Hecate floated the jar back onto the shelf, practically exactly where it was before. Ada was shifting slightly, turning more into Hecate, the tip of her nose lightly brushing against the curve of Hecate’s shoulder.

“The girls made invisibility potions today?” Ada guessed. The combination of herbs whose scent saturated on Hecate’s clothing was rather distinct, she knew that potion, she was sure of it.

“Year Five, yes.”

“A bit early in the term, isn’t it?”

“A treat,” Hecate conceded. “I promised to teach them early if they all made high marks on yesterday’s exam.”

Ada gave a small hum of affectionate amusement. Hecate could be a bit of a pushover with her older girls—around this time of year, she began to get nostalgic as she realized her time with that particular batch of students was ending, and she softened, just a little, around them.

“And?” Ada already knew the answer.

The corner of the potions mistress' mouth quirked into a brief smile. “Perfect scores, all around.”

“Well, who could expect anything less, with such a brilliant teacher?” Ada lightly rubbed the small of Hecate’s back, her hand slipping lower, lightly ghosting over the swell of Hecate’s ass.

“Ada…” Hecate knew where this was going, had known the moment Ada had appeared with that all-too-innocent smile. The same route it almost always went, whenever Ada showed up in her potions storeroom during Hecate’s free period.

“Tell me what you felt, a year ago,” Ada heard the warning in Hecate’s tone and let her hand slip back up to the small of Hecate’s back, fingertips lightly playing with the edge of the wide leather belt cinched around her waist. Her voice was low and adoring, and Hecate felt a flash of panic.

She had two options: bluff her way through and pray to every deity in the Universe that she hit enough of the right marks to keep Ada from suspecting, or distraction.

There was the third option of simply confessing the truth, and breaking Ada’s little romantic heart. Subsequently finding the nearest cliff to launch herself from.

Distraction it was, then.

Hecate grabbed Ada’s face with both hands and pulled her into a searing kiss. The blonde burbled in surprise, quickly recovering to grab Hecate’s hips and pull her closer. Despite her fear and her guilt, Hecate found her body reacting, quickly devolving into the usual hopeless mess under the pressure of Ada’s lips and hands. She shifted, moving so that Ada’s hips were pinned against the work table, hand lightly reaching out to transfer the collection of bottles and jars to a safer location. She kissed her way down Ada’s throat, fingers unfastening the first few buttons of her dress.

If she kept her mouth busy, she wouldn’t be expected to speak. A coward’s move, but desperate times, desperate measures.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Ada didn’t receive some benefit from the situation, Hecate told herself. Ada’s hands were in her hair, trying to loosen her bun, encouraging her to continue. She shifted to her knees, feeling a flush of delight at the way Ada countered her movements by opening her legs wider.

Still, she wanted to give Ada something, to show she was listening, as always. She looked up, knowing that regardless of whatever event she’d forgotten, her words were utterly true in this moment, “I was thinking of this. Of you. Of…wanting this, more than anything.”

Ada was beaming like the sun, and Hecate felt a small wave of relief.

“The night before, I dreamt of you,” Ada confessed quietly, still smiling, still blushing with adoration. “I…dreamt of you saying my name. I felt you…”

“Like this?” Hecate placed her hands on Ada’s knees, slowly moving them upwards, pushing her palms deeply into the soft flesh, letting Ada feel the heat and the weight of her touch.

Ada merely nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. While the thought of Ada having such dreams about her, long before they’d ever reached such an intimate reality, was absolutely erotic, it didn’t help Hecate figure out what the hell they were actually talking about.

Back to distraction, then. Hecate leaned in, letting her mouth follow the path of her hands, smirking at the way Ada lifted her skirt and vanished her tights, silently encouraging Hecate to continue. And continue she did, placing kisses further and further up, pressing her lips more deeply, leaving little tokens of lipstick and feeling a measure of delight in marking the woman in some way.

Ada was murmuring her name softly, shivering in anticipation as Hecate quickly removed her underwear. Hecate didn’t hide her smirk of pride at how she affected this woman, this wonderful creature who absolutely deserved a wonderful anniversary, whatever that anniversary might be celebrating.

“The way you looked at me, that night in the hallway,” Ada was speaking again, reliving some memory that Hecate couldn’t quite recall. “I knew then—I think I truly knew then that there was no going back. It was—oh!—the most wonderful feeling in the world.”

Hecate wasn’t sure if the most wonderful feeling in the world was her realization or Hecate’s tongue tracing its way through her soaking wet folds, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She gently tapped the back of Ada’s left knee, a slight warning before guiding her leg to hook over Hecate’s shoulder, giving her better access. Ada obliged, placing her hands behind her to lean further back onto the table, opening herself more for Hecate. The brunette turned her head slightly, giving a small nip to the tenderness of Ada’s inner thigh in silent thanks.

The pale skin was smeared with dark lipstick and Hecate felt another wave of heat in her chest.

“I have a mirror call in fifteen minutes,” Ada quietly informed her.

Hecate looked up, surprised by the sudden change of conversation.

“Nothing to worry about,” Ada gave a reassuring smile. “Planning the next spelling bee with Amulet’s.”

Still, Hecate understood the unspoken part: they didn’t have a lot of time, if Ada needed to be put-together and presentable soon. She felt a twinge of guilt for the relief she felt, knowing that this afforded her more time to figure out what today was meant to celebrate.

She used that guilt to fuel her actions, pushing Ada to a state of panting, trembling need. Ada came quickly, easily fueled by her memories, and with Hecate’s help, her disarray was quickly righted. With three minutes to spare, she was back in her office, as serene and collected as ever.

Hecate was still sitting on the floor of her storeroom, lipstick smudged and gut filled with heavy dread at just how deeply fucked she currently was, and not in the good way.

* * *

 

There had to be a solution. Hecate sat at her desk, occasionally casting a wary eye over her Year Twos, who were all taking a pop quiz—she was far too distracted to have them brewing potions today.

She called her grade book into her hands, anticipating the first wave of quizzes.

Her grade book sparked an idea. _Of course_. She kept meticulous notes throughout each term—perhaps there would be a clue.

She called another record book into her hands, last year’s term notes, eagerly flipping back to the appropriate date.

It was blank.

Her brows quirked in absolute confusion. No. Impossible. She took notes every single day of term. And last year, it would have been a Thursday. She absolutely would have—the day before was blank, too. She flipped to the day after.

_Classes resumed without much negative impact. Weekend project assigned to make up for missed class time._

Resumed classes? Missed class time? What had…

Oh. Now she remembered. This time last year, there had been a morriwort mold infestation in the castle, and everyone had to be removed for two whole days while exterminators came. She had taken the Year Threes, with Dimity and Ada, on an overnight trip to Mother Shipton’s cave. The girls had requested a day at the beach—they had been quite efficient in organizing their request, Hecate remembered with a small smile.

And today, a year ago, they had gone to the beach. Hecate had acted upon a previous desire to give Ada a picnic, something simple to make her smile. The picnic had been what Hecate would consider a disaster—the day was grey and windy, there was sand everywhere, and eventually they’d been joined by Drill and all the girls. But Ada had beamed with joy the entire time, as if it had been the most wonderful present she’d ever been given.

And suddenly she understood all of Ada’s references. _The night before, in the hallway_ —they had stayed at the Southeil Inn, and one night, she had gone to check on one of the girls, leaving the girl’s room just as Ada was going into her own. And the sight of Ada, smiling at her in the dim light of the cozy little inn, had been an absolute sucker-punch to her gut, a tidal wave of longing that she hadn’t been able to rein in (and even then, she’d felt a flash of giddiness at the thought that she didn’t have to hide her looks anymore, didn’t have to shield Ada from her feelings, because they had begun, they had finally, truly begun). She’d wished for the same scene, with different circumstances—just the two of them, spending their evenings in this enchanting little place, not in separate rooms as colleagues on a work trip, but as lovers, entirely here for their own pleasure.

Oh, she wanted to rush straight into the headmistress’ office, to proclaim that she remembered, to tell Ada all the things she’d wanted to hear earlier—to describe in detail everything she felt, everything she had wanted and hoped for in those timid and tender times, to truly relish in the memory with her lover, to celebrate the moment with just as much zeal as Ada deserved.

 _Tea time_ , she told herself, tamping down a wave of irritation at the thought of having to wait so long. _You can tell her at tea time_.

* * *

 

Shortly before lunch, Hecate’s maglet chimed with a message from Ada. Some other organizational matter had arisen, she wouldn’t see Hecate till dinnertime. She sent her apologies and promised to make up for it, after evening rounds.

 _This year, I’m taking care of everything_ , her familiar handwriting decreed. _Just be ready, love_.

Oh. Being ready was a given. Hecate tamped down a grin as she replied as much. She imagined Ada’s low chuckle in response, her hips rippling with the familiar warmth that thoughts of Ada inspired.

The day dragged on. Hecate’s watch was opened and closed so many times, she feared the hinge would break. She practically collapsed with relief at the ringing of the dinner bells.

This time, she genuinely returned Ada’s secret smile, letting her hand ripple in response to the gentle brush of Ada’s fingertips across her knuckles as she took her seat. Once dinner was dismissed, Ada leaned in to softly whisper, “The southern parapet, if you will.”

Hecate merely nodded and transferred away, grateful that tonight was Drill’s turn for bedtime rounds.

Her eyes went wide with surprise at the scene that awaited her. A simple picnic blanket, candles, and champagne. She could hear the soft sound of waves, the occasional cry of a gull. Even the breeze had been enchanted, the briny sharpness pricking her nose and filling her with soft wonder.

Ada appeared behind her, quietly waiting to hear her verdict.

“This…is what I had wanted it to be, the first time,” Hecate admitted softly. She didn’t turn to Ada, but reached her hand out behind her. Ada’s hand filled the emptiness as she stepped closer to Hecate, placing a small kiss on the side of her upper arm.

“So you did remember,” Ada mused.

Her words made Hecate snap to attention, turning sharply to face her. “What?”

Ada couldn’t stop the giggle bubbling up her throat. “Oh, dearest. I have known you for over two decades. Why exactly do you think I got you the star map in the first place?”

Hecate felt a wash of understanding. Of course, Ada knew all her quirks. Of course, Ada knew that she absolutely did not have a head for dates, had known this for years now. Of course, Ada had read her like a book and had known, all along.

“I’m sorry, I know I teased you earlier,” Ada continued, not looking that sorry at all. “I just…you are adorable when you’re flustered, and your attempts to… _redirect_ the conversation were quite lovely.”

Oh, that woman. That _woman_. Hecate’s hand gently cupped the side of Ada’s face, her lips twisting into a smile at her own foolishness, at this woman’s uniquely endearing cruelty.

“I did figure it out, eventually,” she pointed out.

“I hoped you would. I tried to drop hints.”

“A glance in the hallway? Ada, we live in a castle. It’s 43% hallways.”

“I didn’t want to make it too obvious.”

“Well, you definitely succeeded,” Hecate leaned in, kissing that impish grin. Ada hummed against her lips and Hecate’s mouth pulled into a smile of its own. She quietly pointed out, “You enjoy torturing me, Ada Cackle.”

“I do,” the blonde confessed easily, without a hint of remorse. She took a step back, gently pulling Hecate’s hand and leading her to the blanket. “Now, perhaps you can tell me how you felt, a year ago.”

“Gladly.”

* * *

 

The most wonderful part of being Ada’s favorite person to torture, Hecate had long realized, was that the blonde gave the most delightfully-heartfelt nonverbal apologies. She could blame the champagne for the bubbly golden feeling swirling and sparkling in her veins, but Hecate knew this feeling came from a different drug, stretching her arms out at her sides as she looked up to the star-strewn heavens, body pounding in delicious anticipation under the attentions of her lover.

 _To our very first date,_ Ada had decreed, with a toast of champagne. Hecate had felt her chest tighten with immeasurable joy at the statement. It was true. It wasn’t the first time they’d ever done something for each other, but it was the first time done purely with romantic intent, and the first time it was understood by all involved to be romantic. Not simply dear friends, not concerned colleagues. Lovers who had just begun, who were still learning to pull down the shields and let love be seen and shown.

Oh, how far they’d come. Now if she hid the stars in her eyes, it was simply because others were around. When they were alone, she let Ada see how much she wanted her, how much she loved her. And Ada’s looks were just as open, just as powerful. And now they touched with certainty, with a hard-won knowledge of just how to make the other crumble in the most delightful of ways. And when they toasted to a year of past happiness, they silently made a pact for countless future years of joy.

Ada’s hands were pushing up her skirt, spreading her hips wider. Mimicking Hecate’s actions from earlier in the day, she kissed and bit her way up Hecate’s thigh, giving a small hum of approval for the way Hecate shifted and sighed in happiness.

Hecate reached out with her magic, finding the spells Ada had woven around them to create the sounds and scents of the sea. She pulled them, increasing their volume and intensity as Ada’s tongue teased her entrance, causing her entire body to shiver as her muscles tightened with need. She’d spent the better part of the day aching for Ada, aching to have someone to share her memories with—Ada had listened quite attentively to all the sensations Hecate had described, when she’d recounted her side of last year’s memories. And now she was proving her attentiveness, giving Hecate’s thighs small, tender squeezes, keeping her grounded in the moment.

With another deep, happy sigh, Hecate closed her eyes, relishing the sound of the sea and the feeling of being completely pulled into the undertow of the greatest love story she’d ever witnessed.

Next year, she’d have no problem remembering the date.


End file.
